Sentimentality
by Amarylle
Summary: Hermione Granger rejects a certain proposal that would have made Ginevra Weasley delirious with happiness, but now she is heartbroken, and doesn't understand why she would not marry her brother. Hermione feels like her life's path needs another direction. Which way will she go? Pairings undecided.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** The wonderful world of Harry Potter and the canon characters belong to J.K Rowling and I am only borrowing them to write for my and other people's enjoyment, without any intention of profiting from it. I thank this creative lady for blessing us with such a rich ground to build up our creativity on!

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"You broke my brother's heart." A tight voice muttered, and the brunette witch glanced at the redhead and sighed, averting her gaze.

"I know." She replied sadly, staring straight out at the breath-taking scenery of the Hogwarts grounds.

The other witch's eyes hardened slightly, and her voice was harsh when she asked her next question. "Why did you lead him on, if you didn't want to marry him? I never pegged you to be so needlessly cruel, Hermione." Ginny accused.

The muggleborn cocked her head to the side, looking at her friend with a shocked expression. "I did not lead him on, Gin. You of all people know that I had a crush on him, since our third year." She frowned. "I love your brother, I really do, but we want completely different things from life. I don't know what the future holds for me, but I know that I am not ready for marriage."

Ginny grimaced and ran a hand through her long tresses, an uncomfortable feeling growing in the pit of her stomach. She knew that her friend was right, but she wanted to be mad at her. She needed to be mad at her, because it was easier to blame her for rejecting Ron's proposal and shattering the idealistic Weasley family dream they had, than accepting the situation for what it was.

She leaned against the railing, and sighed. "I know." She admitted quietly. "It's just..., it would have been _so_ perfect to finally have you in the family. I hate that it won't happen now." She choked, her eyes misty with unshed tears.

"Ginny-" Hermione whispered, her gaze soft with understanding, but she was interrupted.

"No, don't say anything, I know I am being ridiculous." She chuckled bitterly, looking at the calm surface of the Black Lake. "Growing up with six brothers was never how I imagined my ideal childhood to be." She paused, and looked back at her best friend. "Don't get me wrong, I adore my brothers, but I always wanted a sister. When Ron's feelings for you became glaringly obvious, and after all those years of skirting around each other you finally started to date, I was hoping that you would officially become a Weasley, and I..." Her voice faded, as she trailed off.

"And you would get the sister that you always wanted." The older witch finished her line of thought tenderly.

"Yeah." Ginny sighed, and tightened her school robes around her lithe form.

"I am sorry that I ruined that dream for you-" Hermione said carefully, and placed a small hand on the taller girl's shoulder. "But Gin, you have to know that I _do_ consider you my sister. My rather loud, terribly hot tempered, albeit kind and caring younger sister, who is always eager to pull me out of my world of books and academics." She chuckled. "My world has become so much broader when we became friends. I might have been getting into all sorts of trouble with the boys, but you comforted me when they were being utterly moronic, and it is _you_ I come to with my problems. You have always been my confidant, and that will not change just because I broke it off with Ronald."

Ginevra took a shallow breath and crushed into the petite body in front of her, sobbing into Hermione's shirt. "Do you promise?" She asked with a small voice.

"Yes, I promise." The bright witch said softly, and hugged the youngest Weasley close to her.

"I am sorry that I called you cruel." Ginny mumbled, feeling guilty about rounding on her. "I did not mean it, I hope you know that I did not mean it. I know you did not want to hurt Ron, and I am sorry for not asking about how you are feeling about all of this. I am such a terrible friend." She sniffled.

Hermione smiled. "It's okay, I understand. I won't lie and say the accusation did not sting a bit, but I know you were just upset. I won't hold it against you, but I would appreciate if you could try to accept that I cannot make Ronald happy, and he wouldn't be able to make me happy either. We are both passionate people, and we clash more often than not. I know there is this whole exciting _opposites attract_ thing that we have going on between us, but it is not always a good thing when sparks fly _so_ fiercely. It can be bad, and unfortunately even though our flame is bright, it _scorches_ us all the time, and we hurt each other without meaning to." She explained with a deep sadness reflecting in her warm chocolate coloured orbs.

"But you _love_ each other!" Ginny desperately exclaimed.

"Yes, but sometimes love is not enough." She frowned.

"I don't understand. Love is all you need, and the rest will work itself out." She vehemently shook her head. "All you need is time, and you will see that I am right, _you will see_. Please, give it another chance. _Please._ " She pleaded with her.

"Ginny, _sweetie_ , please stop." A low voice called out gently from behind.

Hermione looked up to see Harry walking towards them, and she let out a breath she did not know she was holding. She was grateful for his presence, as she was struggling to placate her hysteric best friend. She did not meant to hurt anyone with her decision, however she did not want to deal with this right now, as she was hurting herself.

" _But-_ " The flaming haired witch protested.

"No." Harry shook his head, and pulled the sobbing girl into his arms. "You don't have to like Hermione's decision, but you need to accept it, because otherwise you might lose someone irreplaceable from your life." He whispered into her ear.

The brunette witch watched the scene with a bitter ache in her heart, and since her friends were so wrapped up in each other, she walked away unnoticed. She broke into an aimless run, which surprisingly lead her to the Headmaster's office, where the Gargoyle guarding the entrance slid to the side seamlessly.

"Miss Granger, what a delightful surprise." Dumbledore's portrait called out serenely.

"Headmaster Dumbledore-" Hermione returned the greeting somewhat confused. "I apologize for the intrusion, I am not quite sure _why_ I am here." She furrowed her eyebrows.

" _Well, that would be my fault._ " Another voice muttered, and her eyes widened comically.

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 **A/N:** Honestly, I have absolutely no idea where this story is going. I am writing this because the line _"You broke my brother's heart."_ would not leave me alone, and I just had to write it down, and it went from there. I do know who called out at the end though, that will be fun. If you have any ideas you'd like to see, please let me know, I will be happy to consider it. This is a clean start, with a sea of possibilities. Thank you for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione was staring at the source of the voice that was all too familiar to her, as she heard it in her mind quite a bit, ever since she was sorted into Gryffindor.

"How could this be _your_ fault, Ez?" The stunned witch inquired, not noticing the surprised expression on the painted faces of the portraits hanging over the wall, looking at her curiously.

"May I ask why you called the Sorting Hat _'Ez',_ Miss Granger?" Albus wondered out loud. It was unprecedented that anyone called the Sorting Hat anything other than _"The Sorting Hat"_. In his youth the late Headmaster asked the tattered headpiece its name, but to no avail. His question was blatantly ignored, and he was instantly sorted into the house he belonged to.

The brunette witch glanced at the sentient hat as if seeking permission, which she promptly received.

"Let your words flow freely dearling, and let your voice be heard." It softly sang.

"Well-" She bit her lower lip nervously. "I called him 'Ez', because that's my nickname for him, which I derived from his full name, of course." She explained, and the room descended into shocked silence.

Eventually Headmaster Dumbledore spoke up again. " _Hermione_ ," He began tenderly. "That is a vastly ludicrous statement. The Sorting Hat does not have a name, I would know if _it_ did."

"With all due respect sir, _he_ does have a name, a very sensible name that is absolutely, effectively, fully, perfectly-" She replied passionately, but she was momentarily cut off.

"Miss Granger-" Dumbledore interrupted, but to his chagrin she simply continued without showing the respect that he believed even his portrait deserved.

"Quite thoroughly, totally, utterly, wholly and rather painstakingly befitting to him and his personality. His name is Ezeriah." She finished her line of thought indignantly.

"I request that you cease this insolent behaviour at once, and show some respect young lady!" A gruff female voice demanded.

"Kindly restrain yourself, Edessa!" Armando Dippet chimed in, leaving the Headmistress in a self-righteous huff.

"Ezeriah is a respectable name." Phyllida Spore chimed in. "Very befitting indeed, considering it means _all-knowing_ , and _wise_ , like you always _strive_ to be, Albus." She lightly teased.

"That's enough, Headmistress." Dumbledore frowned, and turned back to the young witch, who looked both amused, _and_ bemused at the same time. "I am deeply sorry to disappoint you Miss Granger, but the Sorting Hat does _not_ have a name-" He pressed.

"There was a time more than a century ago when you believed otherwise, and asked me a certain question, Headmaster." Ezeriah remarked, and the portrait of the elderly wizard with the long silver beard seemed to have frozen in it's motion. "Must I remind you of that?" He chuckled.

"Poppycock!" Dumbledore muttered. "Please cease toying with Miss Granger's delicate sensibilities..." He insisted.

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose, and sighed. "Why is it so hard to believe that a magical talking hat with a telepathic ability has a name?" She muttered quietly to herself, but naturally everyone heard.

"Because I asked once, and I did not get a reply..." Dumbledore grumbled moodily, and his eyes widened. "Ah, did I... say that out loud?"

"How awkward." Edessa said in a droll tone.

The Sorting Hat snorted. "Perhaps you ought to think about the reason _why_ I haven't shared such personal subtleties with you, Albus."

The young witch who was listening to the back and forth bit her lower lip to stop herself from responding to that statement, and glanced at the late Headmaster's portrait. The silver haired wizard was spluttering in what he believed was righteous indignation.

"The better question-, _why_ would you share with Miss Granger, and not with Albus?" A silky smooth voice asked, and Hermione spun around her heel to stare at the source of the voice that held a certain power over her, ever since her first Potions class.

"Ah, Severus, how kind of you to join us." Ezeriah chimed gleefully.

"It's not as if I had a choice in the matter. For some reason the castle was adamant-" He drawled. "Please refrain from staring at my person in such a blatant way, Miss Granger, you are not a drooling flobberworm, are you?"

The witch in question merely rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. A drooling flobberworm? You used to be more creative with your insults, Professor Snape."

The dark wizard's lips twitched in amusement, and he subtly arched a well-groomed eyebrow at the girl's audacity. _Since when did Granger develop a habit to talk back to her Professors?_

"As fascinating as this _'conversation'_ may be-" his voice dripped with sarcasm. "I would rather know the reason my presence was required."

Hermione swallowed a biting quip at his remark, and turned towards Ezeriah, as she was curious herself.

"Very well. The reason Hermione knows my name, and why she always had a mental connection with me is that she has a link to the castle herself, and my noble creators, the _Founders_." He explained, and all eyes snapped to the flustered girl, and there was an audible murmur in the room.

"Now I know that you are just having us on!" Dumbledore yelled. "This is not funny, _Hat_! It is one thing to kid us that you have a name, but another to play such cruel games with a student, even if she is graduating. Miss Granger is a muggleborn, hence there is absolutely no way she could have a link to _the Founders._ I am vastly disappointed in your behaviour." He chided the sentient magical object.

The Gryffindor witch was rooted to the ground in shock. She stared at Ez in sheer disbelief.

Ezeriah sighed. "I might just be a magical object, but I was fabricated from the very essence of Godric's, Helga's, Rowena's, and Salazar's magic, thus I am more than qualified to sense it."

"Impossible!" Dumbledore argued.

Hermione shook herself out of her shocked daze to ask an important question. "Who am I related to?" She asked in a soft whisper.

"Miss Granger, I must advise you to-" The elderly wizard pressed, but he was interrupted.

"Shut your trap, Albus! Everyone is intrigued to find out how this plays out, and you are ruining the entertainment." Armando scowled. "Stop being such a spoilsport, and listen."

The muggleborn witch could not help herself, and her amusement bubbled forth, prompting her to giggle and snort at the same time. Her eyes widening slightly at her faux pas, as her hand flew to her lips. "Sorry." She flushed.

Severus Snape smirked inwardly at her antics, and sneered outwardly. "As enlightening as this information may be, it does not shed any light on why _I_ am here..."

Granger glanced at the Potions Master like he sprouted an extra head. "Isn't it _obvious_?" She huffed, and left no room for a response. "I believe that Ez needs you to brew a certain potion-" Her voice trailed off.

Ezeriah confirmed her theory. "Indeed. Even though I know whom she is related to, there would be disbelief without proof." He said pointedly, as even Dumbledore doubted the truth of his words.

Snape had an unreadable expression to mask his annoyance with the Granger girl. "Very well. Consider it done." He spoke softly, and left the office without so much as another look.

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 **A/N:** I've struggled a bit towards the end, however I do hope that it was readable. I might need a title change eventually when I have more of an idea what I am really doing here.

Thanks for reading.


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